


Ficlets collection

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: (there are exceptions though), 5x10 broke my own heart no kidding, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, One Shot Collection, the tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: A collection of canon/canon speculation one shots and prompts I've written on Tumblr. Each chapter's category will be written in parentheses after its title.





	1. Effective Distractions (H)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, AO3! I've decided to let go and start transferring the ficlets I've written here, in an effort to have them all collected somewhere and maybe bring some attention to some of my less popular ones.
> 
> This first one is set during the six weeks between 4x11 and 4x12.

Emma felt two times lucky; already in the Sheriff’s Station, protected from the pouring rain outside, and the bad weather keeping her focused on her work. She had a special lot of paperwork to work through today.

She took a break to stretch her back and nibble on her leftover fries. She didn’t mind them too much. She knew Killian wouldn’t need too long to memorize her eating preferences, especially since both fries and onion rings were a new thing to him.

As she wiped her hands clean and went on with her work, she saw Killian walk down the corridor towards her. His hair was dripping wet, but a completely dry paper bag was hanging from his hook. She rolled her eyes at his usual smirk.

“Hello, love”, he said as he approached the desk and set the bag on it. “Still here, I see?”

“Yeah, the baby started feeling a bit unwell and Dad asked me if I could do the paperwork for him this evening”, she replied, taking the bag and opening it. “He said he’ll pay me back for…”, she giggled as she saw the cup of hot cocoa and took it off the bag. She could _feel_ Killian smirking above her. “Thank you”, she finally said to him.

“My pleasure, love. You do seem quite tired. I wish I could help with your work.”

“Oh, it’s nothing too hard. It’s just that my back has gone stiff after all those hours sitting here”, she said, shaking her head. Immediately, she felt his warm hand rub softly the muscles just below her neck, slowly massaging down her spine. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan as she admired his one-hand massaging technique. He repeated the move after he reached the end of her spine, rubbing more and more strongly.

After she had relaxed completely, she suddenly felt the cool touch of his hook as he used it to gently lower the collar of her turtleneck, exposing mere inches of her neck. Her eyes still closed, she felt his hot breath on her skin, opposing the coolness of the metal barely touching her neck. She opened her mouth and breathed hard, waiting.

“See you later”, he said simply, placed a soft kiss on her neck and turned to leave. She opened her eyes, her breathing no less hard, and looked at him as he stepped out into the rain without looking back at her, his head raised high the only indication he knew exactly what he had just done.

So much for focusing on her work.

Now he was the one who would have to pay.


	2. Inside Out fusion (A-HE)

_”Wait, if you’re afraid of losing your happy ending, that means you’ve found it. What is it?”_

“Is she serious? What else does she need? Is she gonna give up _too_?”, Anger burst out.

“Calm down. You know her, she’s just… she needs some time,” Sadness said in a low tone. “Don’t you think so, Joy?”

Joy raised its head shyly. “Yeah, I, uh… think so…”

“Guys, guys, we need to answer! Look how she’s looking at us!” Disgust said, its eyes wide.

“I’ll do it!” Anger said triumphantly. “Maybe that’ll-”

“No, no, you’ll scare her away!” Fear said and stopped Anger. “We always do…” Fear added, uncertain.

“Joy? Do you want to… ?” Sadness offered. Joy shook its head, still sitting back in the corner.

“Maybe I should do it! Something neutral, not too much and, how can she ask us that?!” Disgust said and threw its arms up in the air.

“Just don’t hurt her! Be cautious, or she’ll run away!” Fear said and grabbed Disgust’s hands, shaking them.

“Don’t worry, coward! Better than not saying anything, right?” Disgust said and pried its hands away from Fear’s grasp, only to find Sadness having taken over the controls.

* * *

“Oh my God, oh my God! Did we go too far?” Fear said and started walking around the headquarters restlessly.

“No, Fear, relax! We just worry about him and we…” Joy took a deep breath before adding, “we can handle this.”

“But what if he says something else? Are we ready to handle _this_?” Disgust said and side-eyed Joy.

“He’ll just leave us like everyone else,” Sadness said and dropped face down on the floor.

“I knew we shouldn’t trust him! I knew we shouldn’t have let Disgust trust you, Joy!” Anger said, a small fire starting on the top of its head. Fear starting screaming, now running around. Sadness was crying and Disgust was trying to pry the controls free from Joy’s hands.

"We have to go!" Disgust shouted.

“Just… just look at him! Look how he’s looking at us, Disgust!” Joy shouted.

“Oh yeah, typical. Like _no one_ has looked at us like that before!” Disgust spat back. “Maybe we should activate the lie detector!”, it added and went for the button.

Joy sighed and gently pushed Disgust’s hand away. “Remember Mom! Remember Dad! Just give me a moment before you make her run away, okay?”

* * *

“Be careful! Don’t say anything deep!” Fear added, trembling.

“Remember we said we’ll wait until _she_ says _I love you_!” Disgust was barely heard above Fear’s trembling voice.

“Guys, guys! I know what I’m doing!”

“Yeah, you really do…” Joy added in the background, heading slowly towards the console. Sadness pushed a few buttons and…

* * *

_“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.”  
_

“Okay, Joy. Your move,” Disgust said and calmly let go of the controls and Joy’s hands. Everyone was looking at him, dead silence in the headquarters. 

“Oh, that’s so sad,” Sadness said, rose up from the floor and pushed a few buttons.

“Uh… Sadness, you’re making her cry,” Disgust said. 

At that, Joy sighed in relief and lied on the console, arms open wide, pushing several random buttons.

“That’s not really stopping her crying,” Fear added quietly.

Joy didn’t answer, just kept lying there, smiling.

* * *

There was panic in the headquarters. Anger was bursting out flames uncontrollably, Fear was curled up in a ball whispering “That’s it, that’s where she runs…” and Disgust was shouting at Sadness.

“Congratulations, crying puppy! Now she’s had too much! Look at her, she’s crying!”

Sadness lowered its head and kept listening to Disgust’s outburst.

“Um… guys? Can I take over? Guys?” Joy tried to reach the console but no one seemed to listen. Joy looked up and saw Emma reaching. An alarm started beeping softly.

“Uh, guys! Personal space alarm is on! Are you listening?!” Joy said desperately. The alarm raised in volume and a bright red light illuminated the headquarters, making everyone else freeze and look at the screen. Joy reached in and took over the controls. The alarm went off as Emma’s eyes closed.

“Wow, she’s… really close… hmm… cinnamon…” Disgust said and leaned its head back, smiling.

“I think you should close his eyes too now, Joy,” Fear said and everyone kept looking. The headquarters went dark.

* * *

In both headquarters, a ball of bright yellow-blue light illuminated the space and rolled through the tubes, finding its way among red and purple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once rewatched this amazing film and by the end of it, I had to write this one down. Maybe one day I'll have inspiration to do more scenes in that way. And if I go meta (in that kind of fusion I can go SO meta), there is a reason most of Emma's and Killian's core memories are of purple (fear) and red (anger).


	3. Tales and Tunes (A-HE)

Killian looked straight ahead at the horizon. The sky was clear, the water calm, the sound of the waves hitting the shore calming him. He took a breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the relaxing tune. He opened them again and looked down on Emma’s head resting on his lap, her eyes closed as well. He let go of her hand, started rubbing at the back of her head and noticed as she smiled at his touch. He smiled as well. Slowly, Emma opened her eyes and turned to him.

“As the smell of the baking bread drifted through the room, his longing to eat the bread grew,” she said.

“What?” he asked confused, raising his eyebrows.

Emma kept looking at him blankly, before adding, ““Wait and you will eat!” the old man answered.”

Killian opened his eyes slowly and saw he was at the loft. He had fallen asleep on the couch while Emma was feeding her little brother.

“… the king grabbed one, cut it with his hands and started eating,” he heard Emma say. He looked up and saw her, her back half at him, narrating one of Henry’s new stories to the baby, trying to get him to sleep.

“His face flushed with joy as he took his first bite and he yelled: “This is the sweetest bread in the world! And yet I did not add any sugar in the dough!” Then the old man smiled and said: ”My king, you should know that the sugar you added was your sweat needed to make it”,“ she went on. Killian watched her as she mimicked the characters but used a soothing voice as she was narrating. He guessed that the little lad must have already fallen asleep.

"The king followed his advice and when he returned to his palace, he worked hard for his people. He even went down to the fields to work, and ever since then, he was cured and ate well. If only we could all eat like that!” she exclaimed before putting the pages away and looking back at Neal’s crib. Killian heard her sigh.

“Not enough, huh? Only want mom’s and dad’s voice to go back to sleep?” she asked as she leaned her elbows on her knees. She looked tired. Killian almost stood up when he heard the baby start crying, but held back as he saw Emma lean over and pick her brother up, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

“All right, tough man,” she said, her hand rubbing at his back possibly soothing him. “How about some singing? Mom says it never fails.” She waited for a few moments, biting her lip. Killian guessed she was trying to remember a tune to sing. Finally, he heard her voice, low at first, rise as she sang on.

_Hush now my baby, be still love, don’t cry_  
Sleep as you’re rocked by the stream  
Sleep and remember my last lullaby  
So I’ll be with you when you dream

Tears were escaping Killian's eyes before he even knew it. Her voice was more calming than anything he could dream of. Emma pulled him out of his short reverie as she huffed.

“Not the best choice of words, huh? I’m really not good at this,” she said half jokingly as she went on humming the melody instead. Killian looked down, a few tears still running down his cheeks as he let her voice soothe him as well. He had been so entranced by her song he hadn't even paid any attention to the meaning of the words. He wiped his face and looked back up. The baby had closed his eyes and relaxed his head on Emma’s shoulder as she finished humming the melody for one last time. She rubbed his back gently and put him back in his crib, kissing his forehead before standing up.

Killian stood up as well and walked to her.

“And look who’s up!” she said softly, putting her hands on his chest. She frowned a little as she noticed his reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I heard you sing,” he replied. “It just was… beautiful,” he added as he smiled.

“Oh,” said Emma as she put her arms around his neck and smirked. “The notorious pirate captain is touched by a simple lullaby?” she teased him.

He put his hand on her waist and leaned towards her. “I’m still human, love. And _you_ have a wonderful voice,” he said, smirking back.

“Really? That song was from a mother who was saying goodbye to her baby son. Not exactly the best song to use considering our… history,” she said and looked down, her smile falling.

“Hey, Emma, it’s alright,” he said softly and pushed her forehead back with his, causing her to look up at him. His own face fell as he saw her watery eyes and he pulled her into a hug. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and her head rest on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, trying not to think how seldom she was under the care of someone who would sing a lullaby to her, how she didn’t have a lullaby to remember her own mother by. He started rubbing circles on her back and she sighed. She pulled back, one tear running down her cheek. He raised his hand and gently wiped it away, and she smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead as she leaned into him, her hands sliding to his shoulders. She raised on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she broke the kiss and smiled again. “Now come on, sleepyhead, let’s reheat some leftovers, I’m starving.”

He smiled as she pulled at his hand and before she dragged him back to the kitchen, he glanced at Emma’s baby brother sleeping peacefully in his crib.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never know how to not end something too abruptly.
> 
> The snippet Emma is narrating is from a traditional Greek tale called “The Sweetest Bread”. You can read it in English [here](http://blogs.sch.gr/stelagi/2016/01/24/greek-traditional-tales/).  
> The song she’s singing is a part of “Deliver Us” from The Prince of Egypt, which is sung by Yocheved to no other but her son, Moses.


	4. An Unlikely Friend (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of want this thing or a variation of it to be a canon part of Killian’s childhood story, but I may be asking too much or missing the point. In any case, it wouldn't leave my mind.

Killian ran to the rail, watching as the men grabbed the ropes and put them around the cleats on the dock. The port was not a special sight to behold, but the mere scent of fresh and rightly cooked meat and fish made his mouth water. The few coins he and his brother had managed to collect would only suffice for a small portion of said food, but it would be enough for both of them after having survived on mere scraps and nearly rotten fruit for the past few days. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smelling again the food that awaited him. He didn’t want the other men to see, but he was excited for this day, an excitement he tried to cover as much as possible since it was Liam’s turn to be on shore leave that time.

He opened his eyes again, watching as a few men pulled out the gangplank. Before the captain could repeat the orders for those who were staying on the ship, Liam grabbed Killian from the shoulder and gently turned him around, handing over the pouch with their money.

“Liam- what…”

“Just take it, Killian. You’re on shore leave.”

“But- but… it’s your turn, brother.”

“And I give it to you. Just make sure you bring back some good food, aye? I trust you on that.”

“But-”

“Jones! The older! Stop messing around and start cleaning!”

Liam smiled to his brother, rubbed him on the shoulder and took the stairs down to the kitchen without a second word. Killian stayed there staring at the stairs and then at the pouch in his hand.

“And you, little one. You have the chance to get those scrawny feet on dry land, so take it unless ya want to join your brother”, Wallace said and poked Killian on the same shoulder Liam had rubbed, not so gently this time. Wallace was grown up, strong and respected by the Captain, but he always treated the younger ones bitterly every time he had to stay on board. Killian wasted no time and ran off on shore.

He didn’t have much time to spend but he knew that the later he got the food, the warmer and tastier it would be. Actually, even cold and dry meat would be a luxury for both of them. He started venturing deeper into the village. It wasn’t any special place, humble houses and dirt roads surrounding them, the occasional cart selling fresh fruits and vegetables and other supplies. It was their first time travelling so north and Killian was excited by some of the products he’d never seen before; various types of berries, freshly picked out from the forest. He looked at them and contemplated buying a sample for him and his brother, which meant sacrificing a portion of the meat but new tastes always excited them.

New places certainly do teach you a lesson, Killian would think later. As he leaned over a counter to look at the strange little fruits, a man snatched his pouch of what little they’d managed to collect the past few weeks.

“Hey! Stop!” Killian cried and ran after him. But the man looked strong and fast and a hungry teenager was no match for him. Reaching the end of the market to the woods, the man dared a look behind him and ran into a cart with merchandise of some kind. Killian caught up with him, only for the man to kick him behind. Killian fell on his back, the hard ground knocking the breath out of his lungs. When he looked up again, the man had disappeared. He rested on his elbows for a few moments, despair crawling up in him. It took them weeks to collect this money, nights of lying down with their stomachs growling in the hopes of one day gathering enough to buy a decent meal.

He finally registered the merchant behind him, huffing restlessly as he tried to gather his product. Killian sighed and rose, finally looking at him. He was young, ten years older than himself more or less, thin and slightly short, with short brown hair, unruly from the whole commotion. Killian walked up to him slightly panting and bent over to see him picking up balls of thread, now tangled up together on the grass.

“Are you alright?” Killian asked him.

“Aye, fine. It’s just, the cart is heavy…” the young man replied in a heavy accent.

“Here, let me help,” Killian offered and helped him pull the cart straight. The young man finally looked at the boy and smiled.

“Thank you, lad”, he said and Killian nodded.

“I can help with those… thread… uh…”

“Oh, no, no need to worry,” he said and smiled again. “The better you spin them, the easier you wrap them into a ball”, he added quietly and looked down, as if he expected to be mocked about it. Killian felt a twitch of sympathy for the man. He had spent a few years in servitude himself; no kind of job was something to be ashamed of.

So he knelt over and picked up a light brown thread, untangling it from the grass and the tiny twigs and started wrapping it into a ball. The young man opened his mouth to protest but Killian cut him off with a shake of his head and a gentle smile. The man resigned and went on with his job until everything was settled. Killian went on helping him until they were over, the work helping himself take his mind off his despair. He already felt his stomach protesting silently. He tried not to think how disappointed Liam would be after Killian would walk back on board empty-handed. Or worse, how he would try to hide his disappointment so that Killian wouldn’t be sad himself. He didn’t have the heart to appreciate the irony.

“Thank you, lad. You didn’t have to do this”, the man said, his eyes cast down in humbleness and reached down behind the cart.

“My pleasure. It was nothing, really.” Killian nodded and started to leave, not knowing where to go. He still had a few moments and he didn’t want to waste them, but his despair drew away any wish to be alone, away from his brother right now.

“Wait!” the man said, rising from behind the cart. “I… would like to give you something.”

Killian turned around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. The man reached over and stretched his hand toward him. There was a bun of brown bread on it, looking and smelling fresh.

“Uh… no, there’s no need… I was just…”

“Please, just this little. As a thank-you. You didn’t have to help and I’m not going to starve without it”, the young man chuckled lightly before noticing that the boy’s eyes darkened. Killian knew his despair showed and hated the pity it caused. But as he looked at the young man, he saw something else, something only Liam would show. Understanding.

The man shook his outstretched hand towards Killian and smiled sympathetically, encouraging him to take the bread. Killian did, albeit a bit hesitantly, without looking at the man. The bread was still warm and crunchy, soft on the inside. As he squeezed it, it let out a sweet scent and this time Killian’s stomach growled audibly. He blushed and almost ran away in shame.

“Want to join me?” the man asked, grabbed another bun of bread from his basket and sat down on a log, nibbling at the bread silently, waiting for Killian to sit with him. Killian looked around and decided to hell with it. Liam was going to be sad anyway, and even upset if Killian told him he hadn’t eaten a crumb so that Liam could have the whole bread.

Liam loved him too much for his own good.

Killian sat down with a sigh and tried to cut the bread in half with his thin fingers. Eventually it broke into two pieces, the one slightly bigger than the other. He placed the bigger one on his lap and took a large bite from the smaller one. It tasted as good as it smelt. He swallowed and felt his stomach finally calm down, and almost let a sigh of contentment at the food but held himself back. They ate in silence until the man noticed the piece resting on Killian’s lap and nodded towards it.

“It’s better while it’s warm,” he commented. “Better sooner rather than later.”

“I’m keeping it for my brother.” Killian replied, not caring about sharing too much. He really felt that this stranger was actually understanding. He looked up at the man.

“Your brother? Where is he?”

“Well, he’s uh… working. We live on a ship and we’re working there. I’m on shore leave today.”

“Where are your parents?”

Killian dropped his gaze again. “They’re… uh… gone.”

“Oh,” the man said and dropped his gaze as well. “And it’s only you and your brother?”

“Aye,” he replied softly.

“You know, well, after he’s done with his work you could… you could drop by my place. My father is gone too but I’ve been raised by two women who’ve loved me as if I was theirs. You’re welcome to have dinner with us.”

Killian shook his head. “Thank you, but we’re leaving today. We’re just replenishing our supplies and then we’ll leave for our port of destination.”

“It’s a cargo ship?”

“Aye, that it is.”

“Perhaps you will dock here again after you deliver?”

“I don’t know.” Killian shrugged. “I just do manual work, I don’t mess about their business”, _they get angry if I do_ , he said to himself.

“You just work on the ship? Do you like it?”

Killian opened his mouth to speak, but closed it immediately, still not wanting to see pity on the young man’s face.

“You could certainly find easier and less demanding jobs anywhere. I’ve been spinning and selling thread since I was younger than you. I can help you-”

“I can’t leave,” Killian cut him off, his eyes still looking at his lap. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

“Well, you can leave together, can’t you?”

Killian shook his head.

“What do you mean? You owe them som-”

“A rowboat my father bought from the Captain”, Killian replied fast and sternly. He had finished his bread and almost got up and ran. He scrunched his eyebrows and looked up at the man, but relaxed in surprise after seeing no pity and no surprise on the young man’s face.

“I’m sorry I asked”, the man said and dropped his gaze.

Sorry he asked? Not sorry he was looking at a child slave, someone unable to leave the predicament his own father put him in?

“My father abandoned me too,” the man shared. “I thought we were going to start over somewhere else, where his reputation wouldn’t touch him. And as soon as he found that place, he threw me away. I was very lucky to have found those women who raised me, or I don’t know where I would be now.”

Killian rubbed his hands together and kept looking at the man. “I have my brother. He’s trying very hard to be strong for me, and sometimes I think that he shouldn’t try too much for my own sake, but… he’s all I’ve left.”

“I’m sure he loves you very much. I never had more than my father, I barely even remember my mother.”

Killian tried to fight the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to think about his own mother right now.

“But I… who am I to complain? I was left behind but at least I wasn’t sold into servi-”

The man cut off abruptly, realizing what he’d slipped. He looked as the boy dropped his gaze again and toyed with his shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you’re right. That’s what he did. There’s no good in denying it”, Killian said after a moment of silence.

“You know, I mean it. Whenever you’re close, you can always come by. We’ll be happy to welcome you and your brother.”

Killian raised his hand and wiped away the tears before they escaped his eyes. He looked around and noticed that some of the merchants had taken their carts and got off the street. Time had passed faster than he’d anticipated and soon someone would come looking for him, and he doubted it would be Liam. He got up and tossed the crumbs off his lap, securely holding the bigger bread piece on his other hand. His eyes still wet, he finally looked up at the man.

“Thank you,” was all he managed to say. He wanted to say so much more, but the lump was back in his throat and even though the man showed understanding like no other stranger had done, Killian found himself wanting nothing else than to be by his brother’s side.

The young man nodded and smiled softly. He seemed touched himself by the conversation, and Killian briefly wondered if the man had any friends at all before nodding back briefly and turning his back to him, almost running back to the ship.

He thought of his brother. He would be still hungry at the end of the day and try to hide his sadness over the lost money, but Killian felt purely good for the first time since his father left him. His money was gone and his stomach was asking for more food, but meeting that stranger who without hesitation gave him half his food made his heart swell. He had no illusions that those kind of people were easy to find, but still he looked at the bread and felt a smile forming on his lips.

Liam at least would be happy his brother got some hope back, thanks to that stranger man no less. It was only then he realized he hadn’t asked his name.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin looked as the little boy almost ran back towards the docks. He felt so sad for him, he himself was only a few years younger than him when his own Papa left him. But he wasn’t pitying him, and he hoped the boy could see that.

“Rumple?”, a voice came from behind him. He turned around and saw the woman he came to respect as a mother.

“Everything alright?” he asked her.

“Aye, I just thought I could walk you back home.”

“I’m a grown man, you know.”

“Aye, I know. Who was that boy?”

Rumplestiltskin looked at the route the boy had taken, even though he had disappeared in the town. “You know, I didn’t even ask him”, he shrugged, feeling a little guilty for not doing so.

“Oh well, you might as well meet him again”, the spinner replied.

“I hope so. I invited him and his brother to dinner.”

“Did you now?” the woman asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Aye, but they can’t come. Maybe another time, he said. He seemed like a good boy. Loves his brother,” he finally looked back to her. “Seems to love a good family.”

“We’re not adopting him,” she said with a smirk.

Rumplestiltskin laughed. “I didn’t say that.”

“Come on now,” she added. “Let’s go home, shall we?” she said, rustling his hair.

As they walked up to their humble home, he looked around, expecting to see the ship in which the boy and his brother worked. He really wished they would meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise anything, but I may or may not plan a second part, where the two men talk about that event in the present.


	5. Come (A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first official attempt at writing fic.

He had come close to death so many times, one would have expected him to not succumb so easily to its luring relief. He’d spent an eternity thinking, knowing, that if he died, nobody would try to bring him back. This time was different from many more aspects.

Because this time he _saw_. The place he found himself at was vague, but for one thing, he felt he could see clearer than ever. Most importantly, he saw  _them_. His brother, fully dressed in his Navy costume, just the way he was when the Dreamshade finally claimed his life, and Milah, in the colourful clothes she wore when her heart was lost.

They had their backs at him, and were standing still. He felt himself reaching towards them, though he wasn’t walking, nor flying. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt before. Almost nothing in this state felt familiar. But he was glad. Even though he still felt the water weighing his lungs and his hair dripping water, he was finally starting to feel solace.

Suddenly they turned. Had he still been able to feel anything than relief, he would’ve felt discomfort, at best, by the look of them. Milah’s chest, right above the place where her heart was, was stained with blood. Liam’s face was not in better shape. His veins were blackened, token of that dreadful poison. They were both smiling, and as Killian grew even closer to them, they offered their hands for him to go to them. Of course, the veins on Liam’s hand were black as well. But Killian didn’t care. He continued reaching for them, and finally raised his own only hand towards their way. Again, he was not surprised to see that it was soaking wet, as was his upper body. He was getting closer to them when he heard a voice so distant he barely registered the words.

_Wake up, Killian!_

And with this voice, the first dreadful emotion kicked in; regret. He recognized the voice, and didn’t want to leave its owner behind, but, he thought, maybe it won’t hurt her so much, if for one last time, he chooses the selfish way.

He went on reaching for his deceased loved ones.

_Killian, come back to me_.

And it was with this plea that he felt a hand grabbing his left elbow. The hand was cold, or at least colder than the place he was now, but its grip was firm. And it pulled him away, towards the living, where he would no longer see clear, no longer see them.

His hand was still extended, reaching for Liam and Milah. They didn’t move, they just stood there, smiling lovingly, with their hands extended towards him in return.

The pull grew stronger, and he felt a gush of air attacking his lungs, pushing the water out. He couldn’t see them clear anymore, as he was steadily drawn away from them.

_Come back to me_.

This time he heard the plea clear; asking, needing, despairing.

His lungs demanded to release the water, and once again his world went black. He felt the hard ground underneath him, the winter air freezing his wet body, a pair of hands resting on his chest. He lunged forward, as much as his lack of strength allowed him, and spat out the water. He lied down again and breathed in air with his eyes closed, feeling a gloved hand caress his cheek. Wearily, he opened his eyes to face his Savior, panic shown on her whole face. He couldn’t see clear anymore, though he couldn’t help the relief at seeing her beautiful, sunlit face again.

“Swan”, he muttered breathlessly.


	6. That time of the month (+ Millian)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this once when my cramps had set me ridiculously incapacitated. I understand that period may not be something everyone wants to read, even those of us who experience it every month but I felt that someone had to do it at least once.
> 
> This story starts with Emma and Killian and then jumps to what I headcanon was an early stage of the relationship between Milah and Killian.

The time of the month where Emma wished Killian wasn’t staying with her came earlier, of course. She flung open the door to the house and shut it with force behind her as she practically ran upstairs to the bathroom. She barely even registered Killian raising his head from his book to her and asking her if she’s alright.

And then she was trapped in the bathroom, unable to get to the bedroom to get a clean underwear because of course Killian was standing outside the bathroom door.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Just go downstairs and I’ll be there in a moment,” she tried, but couldn’t hold back a soft moan as the cramps came.

“Emma?” she heard his voice again, this time a bit worried. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a woman, that’s what’s going on!” she almost shouted. Sitting on the toilet, she looked away from her stained underwear and wrapped her arms around her stomach. She bit her lip, breathing hard.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You can go downstairs! As I told you to!”

“I could… help with your clothes,” he offered, his voice a bit uncertain, “if you want. But I could go downstairs if you insist.”

Emma rested one elbow on her hip and her forehead on her palm. “I’m sorry I shouted at you. I just don’t want you to…” she paused, and appreciated him waiting for her to find the right words, “… see me like this,” she finally added.

“No need to be sorry, love.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s because of you, it’s just…”

“I’d lived with a woman for years, with very little space for ourselves. And we didn’t have the painkillers of your time. Or the detergents, for that matter.”

Emma gulped. The first time she got her period, she was terrified because no-one had explained to her that it’s something normal. But eventually, she discovered she was lucky to even live in this modern world, with pads and tampons and above all, painkillers.

It still didn’t make her feel less irritated.

“Shall I go downstairs?”

“No,” she finally admitted. He knew which drawer kept her underwear. She decided that moving in together meant they had to deal with each other’s everyday nuisance. And if he was ready to help her with that, she had to be ready to let him into something he seemed to already have experience in.

But damn her if she didn’t feel awkward as all hell.

* * *

“Milah, wake up.”

Milah hummed and scrunched her eyebrows as she felt the cramps set in. She desperately hoped those were the warning ones and that she hadn’t slept through the beginning of her period. Or that those weren’t the usual cramps at all and she was simply sore.

“Milah, love, are you alright?”

She finally opened her eyes and looked at Killian, whose face was etched with worry.

She huffed. “What?” she asked then.

“Love, you’re bleeding. Are you hurt?”

What? Oh, no. She pulled away the covers and cursed as she saw she had stained everything; her nightdress, the sheet, even Killian’s breeches, and probably even the mattress.

She cursed again and stood up, moaning softly as her abdomen screamed in complaint. “Sorry, I’ll… I’ll clean that up.”

“Milah, what the hell?” Killian asked, obviously still in shock and stood up from the bed, walking towards her.

“I’m fine. It’s just my time of the month,” she said softly.

“It looks like someone _butchered_ you, just let me take a l-”

“Killian, that’s normal!” she raised her voice, just enough so to not wake the sleeping sailors or worry the ones on guard duty. She raised her hand to let him know she was fine. Then she looked at him. She had to admit she was amazed by his astonished look.

“You mean you…” he started, his mouth still agape, “… you bleed so much every time?” His eyebrows raised so much he looked silly. She snorted and nodded, as he shook his head in shock.

“I’m sorry, I’ve… never… I didn’t know.”

She waved her hand at him again as a signal of understanding. Still she held her other arm around her abdomen, trying to soothe the pain as much as hide some of the stains. The sun hadn’t risen fully and the light on the horizon was still low.

“I’m going to get you some water,” he said finally. His face made him look as if he was still in a shock and it would have made Milah laugh, if her whole body hadn’t been screaming in pain. He left the quarters and she finally let out the groan she was holding in. She walked slowly, almost hobbled to the bed and pulled the sheet up, sighing loudly when she saw the stain covering the mattress. Great. Only a few days of sleeping with the Captain and she already ruined his bed.

As she tried to pull the rest of the sheet away, Killian entered silently holding a bucket of water. She dropped the sheet on the floor and walked to him, offering her hand for the bucket.

“No need, I’ll just soak the sheet in here…” he said carefully.

“What? Isn’t that for me?”

“I told the cook to warm up some water. This is cold, to take off the stains.”

At least he knew that detail. Being a pirate would give you that, she guessed. “I can’t wait for the water to warm up. I can’t stay like this!” she almost hissed in an effort to not shout at him.

“You’ll wash yourself with cold water in your condition?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. My _condition_?”

“I’m the last person to know what’s it like but, wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t pour ice cold water on your body while you’re bleeding and obviously in pain?”

Milah blushed from embarrassment, and maybe even anger. “Hasn’t stopped me before,” she retorted and yanked the bucket from his hand. She walked to the door but stopped when she heard footsteps outside. Some of the sailors were waking up for their morning duties, and since more and more light was creeping up, the last thing she wanted was to be seen like that.

“You can wash here if you want. I have a spare sponge here somewhere,” he offered.

“Thank you,” she replied as she tried to estimate the damage. Hell, she was still bleeding. She needed towels and her spare rags from her room. Her last period was only a week ago, which is why she felt comfortable sleeping with the Captain in the first place, so she wasn’t prepared for that. She sighed and then she saw Killian’s hand offering her a big sea sponge. She took it and thanked him again, grateful for the object in her hand. Sponges were usually considered a luxury in her humble village.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for the water to warm up?” he asked again.

She sighed again in exasperation. “I’ve been doing this since I was a girl!” she snorted and looked over her shoulder at him. He seemed to swallow hard and nod. She scrunched her eyebrows as she realized that in his eyes was not pity, neither disgust nor shock; they were full of understanding. She really liked the Captain, but most of the time he did behave like a spoiled little brat so she wondered how a man who probably grew up wanting for nothing would understand her situation. Before she turned around to wash herself, she noticed he was throwing his blood-stained breeches on the soiled sheet. He put on a new pair of breeches, then picked up the dirty cloths and left the quarters.

After she had washed up, Killian entered with another nightdress of hers he had picked up from her cabin and a towel. She still needed her rags though. The question was, how could she ask of him to pick those up for her? He was already going out of his line of duty for her. Not that she thought it was her fault, but still…

“You can take the day off, if you please,” he said.

“Excuse me?” she replied, quite offended.

“I think any sailor deserves a bit of a rest after losing so much blood. I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

She huffed and shook her head. “As I said, _this_ is normal. That’s what happens every month.”

“I find it hard to believe that. I’ve seen sailors die after losing all that blood,” he said, but he still really seemed a bit worried.

“Maybe then that’s because this,” she said pointing to the stains on her nightdress, “is not all just blood.”

Killian’s eyes grew wide, and slowly his face turned into an expression that showed this information was not something he wanted to know. Milah put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to get over the shock of knowing yet not fully knowing. He finally closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.

“In any case, if you wish to rest for the day, you have my permission,” he said softly. Milah heard a pinch of guilt in his voice, as if he felt guilty for not understanding her distress sooner.

“I think I’ll be fine, thank you.” Looking at him, once again she saw more understanding than pity. Even if there was no way for him to know what she was going through, he seemed to understand at least _how_ hard it was.

“I do have one more favour to ask, though,” she added finally.

He dropped his hand and looked back at her. “Of course,” he said and nodded.

She bit her lip. This was certainly going to make things even more awkward.

Much later, when her work for the day was over, she found herself wishing she had taken up on the Captain’s offer. Having her period start again so sooner than anticipated left her exhausted and spent, and her whole body felt sore.

The pains had gotten worse only after she’d left.

She kept telling herself it was because of the cold of the open seas; because of the weeks spent at sea without any fresh fruits; because of her turning her whole life around.

But most days, she couldn’t shake away the thought that those pains were her own mind punishing her, reminding her of the child she had brought to this world and then abandoned. Every time she bled, every pain she endured, all served as a punishment for her selfishness.

And so she would take it without a second word.

She slept in her own cabin that night, and asked the Captain to let her rest the next day, a favor he gladly allowed.

She was grateful but didn’t have the heart nor the strength to show it.

The same night, she was unable to find a comfortable position to sleep. She just rolled over and over in the bed, always afraid of spilling over her own sheets as well. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

She was startled at the sound of someone knocking softly on her door, as if trying not to wake her in case she was sleeping. She raised her head from her pillows and asked, “Who is it?”

“Captain Jones,” came Killian’s voice from outside.

She sighed in relief and put her head back in the pillows. “Come in,” she said.

The door opened slowly and Killian emerged from behind it, holding a teapot and a cup in his one hand and a lit lantern in the other.

“I thought I should bring you some tea,” he said tentatively. “I’ve no clue what specific herbs would help you, but I hope this will make you feel better. I also brought some hardtack as well in case you’re feeling nauseous.”

She wanted to smile at his move. He was almost blushing, but it could be the soft orange light from the lantern painting his face like that. His smile and his voice though, did seem to give off the idea that he was feeling kindly awkward.

“You know that the fact that I’m bleeding means no morning sickness, aye? I’m just unwell, not pregnant.”

He let out a soft laugh. “There’s still the risk of sea sickness if you stay all day below deck,” he added.

“It’s been over a year, Captain. I think I found my sea legs long ago.”

“Agreed,” he nodded and smiled. He placed the teapot and the cup on the small desk next to her cot, and offered to light her lantern.

“Actually,” she said, carefully, “would you mind staying for a while? I really appreciate you coming and I wouldn’t want to bother you-”

He cut her off by letting himself down on her cot next to her, hanging the lantern on a little hook on the wall.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked, his expression soft.

She huffed. “Not well, apparently. I hope a good night’s sleep will help me get back to my work tomorrow.”

“Hey, my offer stands for as long as you’re feeling unwell. I have no experience with cases like yours, but I think it would certainly do you some good to simply rest for now.”

“I’m not some weakling. I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, I know that very well, love. But it’s rarely a sin to treat yourself.”

“Did you have a mother?” she asked carefully. He did say he had no experience…

“Aye, but she passed long before I got to know any of this. And, I… I grew up surrounded mostly by men. In many cases, not ones who would treat a woman well.”

“Seems like they became an object lesson to you.”

He raised his eyebrow and his soft expression immediately turned arrogant. “Is that so? Is that the impression I’m giving off?”

“Not to anyone who hasn’t been in your bed.”

He snorted, but his smile turned soft as he kept looking at her. Their few nights together had been nowhere close to passionate love-making, and heavens above she hadn’t felt that in _years_ , but he’d respected her and treated her as well as she did him.

And neither seemed willing to stop those nights from happening. Milah knew she was falling for him and, she could say he was reciprocating, if she judged by the soft looks he would cast upon her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Or by the way he was looking at her now, lips parted, eyes soft and hand itching to reach over and hold hers. Finally, he spoke.

“I do have a vague memory. My father sitting next to my mother. My mother leaning onto him, and her forehead furrowed,” he said, moving his hand in front of his own forehead to demonstrate. “She simply said she was feeling unwell, but now I realize this would happen often, maybe indeed once a month. My father would wrap his one arm around her waist, while the other would rub around her belly. It seemed to comfort her.”

“He must have loved her,” she vaguely said, trying not to think when the last time was that someone did that for her.

But Killian’s eyes darkened suddenly. He was looking at nowhere, setting his jaw straight. He only reacted to Milah reaching over and holding his hand softly in hers. He didn’t look at her until his expression softened and he sighed. When he did turn towards her, she rolled over to her side and scooted at the edge of the bed, making room for him. He responded immediately, lying down next to her and she leaned back into his chest. He let go of her hand and buried his under her covers, hovering over her abdomen as if awaiting her confirmation. She waited and didn’t move, closing her eyes.

Slowly, he placed his hand on her abdomen and started rubbing slow, soft circles. Milah sighed in contempt, and Killian reached over and kissed her softly on her neck. As he kept rubbing softly on her belly, she came to realize that what soothed her the most was not the gentle touch, but the fact that it was there in the first place. Her eyes still closed, a smile appeared on her lips when Killian nuzzled his nose with the back of her neck. His warm breath on her skin, his hand alleviating her soreness, his _whole body_ so close to hers…

That night only promised they would take things slow, and she didn’t mind at all; there were still nights they would not spend together. But not once did she stay away from his soothing hand when she needed it. As he kept saying after that, that was a treat she chose to give to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh of course Killian had sponges. I headcanon he has visited a realm where there’s an equivalent of the Mediterranean Sea, from where he also got the mastiha-like thing he was chewing in the tavern scene in “Devil’s Due”.
> 
> I hope I got Milah’s voice okay. It’s the first time I’m writing her and to be quite honest, I’m glad with how it turned out.
> 
> Let's go meta! I actually really like the headcanon that Milah and Killian started sleeping together in a "friends with benefits" type of thing but slowly started falling for each other and their having sex was changing into making love until at some point they were like, "Yeah we can't deny it anymore".
> 
> I also love headcanoning that Killian learnt a lot about women with Milah. We see he was very young without a mother and, how many 10-year-olds in a Medieval setting can happen to know about periods, especially if we're talking about those children who will never know what's it like? Also, he grew up under captains who didn't mind having little children as their indentured servants, I doubt that kind of people would treat a woman any better. I'm sure by the time he was in the Navy and after, he knew the basic stuff, but not the very small details he would find out by living in very close quarters with Milah for years.


	7. Prompt: I just came home to you crying while watching a movie (A-HE)

Emma wiped her face clean in the sink while Killian stood by her side.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

“Emma, I just came home to you crying while watching a movie. Please tell me what’s going on.“

Her lip trembled.

“It was… this father… and he believed he wasn’t a good enough father for his daughter, because he was mentally handicapped. And he just… he just broke down in the court saying he believed she deserved better than him…”

She was crying again. Killian embraced her, rubbing soft circles on her back. He rarely ever saw her cry in a film, but this time he could see that the film had a stronger effect on Emma. He wished with all his might he could take away her pain, but he knew himself that some wounds would stay with her forever. He had his own, too.

“Did you watch the whole film?” he asked.

“No, I couldn’t make it past that scene,” she sniffled.

“Watch it with me? I have a feeling it will have a happy ending.”

Indeed, though a little bittersweet, the end found Sam with custody over Lucy and the hope that things will work.

Emma rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for this,” she said. “I don’t think I would have had the courage to watch the rest of it alone.” She had stopped using tissues by now.

He wanted to tell her about what her mother would say right now, but he decided to approach the subject differently. “I believe you’re a wonderful mother, for what it’s worth,” he said.

She raised her head and looked at him, eyes red and puffy from crying. His hand played with a lock of her hair, and he looked at her as he continued. “You wanted to be there for Henry, and you were, you _are_ there, no matter what. Sam wanted to be there for his daughter, and he was, no matter what. That’s the message this film wanted to show.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “Where did you learn about messages in films?” she said and smiled mockingly.

He chuckled. “Henry keeps talking for the movies we watch long after we do.”

“He doesn’t do that with me,” Emma said, looking down and back up at him.

“Well…” he said, looking back at the screen and raising his eyebrows, “maybe that’s because there are kinds of… messages he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing with you… or Regina… but me and David-”

“Seriously?”

He chuckled again. “I was talking about _cars_ , Swan. Those _Fast and the Furious_ films seem interesting, no?”

Emma shook her head, covering her eyes with her palm. “My son is becoming addicted to cheesy adventure films,” she said with mock drama, putting her hand on her chest for effect.

He smiled, seeing how her spirits were high again. He kissed her temple and held her close when he asked what she wanted to do then.

“I think a walk would do me some good. What do you say?”


	8. Prompt: You're really soft (F)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not be the cutest thing I've ever written.

After having worked for the entire day, Emma was too tense to sleep immediately. Killian had stayed awake with her, trying to keep his eyes open by starting conversations, but eventually he fell asleep first, his mouth ever so slightly open.

That night was exceptionally hot, and they eventually gave up trying to cuddle, with Emma insisting that she would need to take multiple showers during the night if they kept on. So they reluctantly kept a slight distance between their bodies, her right hand only holding his wrist.

She felt too tired to take a walk, too tired to even browse on her phone, but still she couldn’t sleep for many minutes. Suddenly, in the dead silence, she heard Killian murmur next to her. She turned, slowly, to see him edge close to her, his eyes still closed. He touched her upper arm with his forehead and his hand, humming happily and finally mumbling “You’re so soft.”

She chuckled at first, but as he kept rubbing his cheek on her arm and making satisfied noises at the touch, she had to contain her laughter from bursting out. She could handle a sweaty arm in the morning if it meant she could see his face the next morning, after telling him how cute he’d been that night, so he let him snuggle his smile on her arm.

She fell asleep with a smile that matched his.


End file.
